


Living In Color

by heartlikethat



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Because Clearly These Idiots Love Each Other, Best Friends, F/M, Friendship, Max is a Hufflepuff, They Kiss A Lot For ✨Just Friends✨
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartlikethat/pseuds/heartlikethat
Summary: Just a bunch of totally platonic kisses between friends over the course of a year.(Set before the events of season one)
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	Living In Color

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my break from writing was short-lived.
> 
> This takes place whatever year David and Emily got married because that gets mentioned in this fic.
> 
> Each moment is centered around a specific color because that’s what my brain came up with (hence the title, which is also a song by the incredible Alexz Johnson who continues to inspire me).
> 
> Also, the first moment isn’t *technically* a kiss, but it’s close enough.

**Red**

On a Friday in late February, Zoey walked into work looking like she hadn’t slept at all and also like she spent a good portion of the night bawling her eyes out.

Which — _surprise, surprise_ — is exactly what happened.

“Good morning, Zoey. Excited for your big date tonight?” Max asked as soon as she sat down at her desk, his tone warm and a smile on his face, seemingly oblivious to her puffy eyes and disheveled appearance (well, disheveled by Zoey’s standards, anyway. She was wearing a pink sweater with _no_ collared shirt underneath and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail).

When she didn’t say anything, Max rambled on. “Six months, wow. This is officially your longest relationship. Since I’ve known you, at least.” Zoey stared blankly at Max, wondering _how the hell_ someone who knew her _so well_ was suddenly _so dense_. Did he need to make an appointment with an optometrist? There was clearly something very wrong with his eyes.

“Max, how are you not reading my expression right now? Or like, _my whole demeanor?_ ” She used her hands to gesture to herself, waving them around erratically. “Jason broke up with me last night. He said I was _’too smart’_ for him. Is that even a thing? _Who does that?_ ” She stared at Max, her eyes wide and wild, before burying her face in her hands and groaning. “And now I have to cancel the reservation tonight for that new Italian restaurant that I really, _really_ wanted to go to. Men are stupid.”

“I’ll go with you tonight, if you want.” Zoey peeked at Max through her fingers, waiting for him to keep talking. “Just because Jason’s evidently a _total idiot_ doesn’t mean you have to miss out on incredible food. Besides, the best way to get over someone is with wine and carbs.”

Zoey cracked a smile, her first real smile since before she got her heart completely shattered. She really thought Jason could have been _the one_. How pathetic was that? That she didn’t even recognize the impression wasn’t mutual.

_Ha ha. Guess the joke’s on you, Jason. Clearly I’m not ‘too smart’ if I didn’t see this coming._

She broke off her musings and pulled her hands away from her face, straightening up in her chair. “That’s not the expression.”

“No, it’s a much better expression though, I think. So...what do you say? We can talk shit about Jason and his pants that were always _way too tight_. Seriously, that can’t be good for his...” Max cleared his throat, “well, _you know_.” He pointed down at his lap and made a face that had Zoey laughing and feeling _marginally_ better about the whole situation.

“I thought you liked Jason?”

Max gave her a look of disbelief, mingled with a touch of disgust, “I _tolerated_ Jason. For you. But now he’s confirmed what I’ve had my suspicions about all along.”

Zoey quirked an eyebrow at him. “And what’s that, exactly?”

“That he’s not good enough for you. Any man would be so damn lucky to have someone as brilliant and clever as you by their side. If your _intelligence_ scared him away, then honestly I think you’re better off without him.”

“Thanks, Max.” She gave him a soft smile. He always knew just what to say to lift her spirits. “So, the reservation is for 7, wanna just meet me there?”

“Sure, sounds good.”

“And it’s pretty fancy, so dress accordingly.”

* * *

Once they left the restaurant, full of pasta and Merlot and _plenty_ of Jason bashing, Zoey wrapped Max up in a hug, standing on her toes and squeezing him tight. “This was a great idea, I really appreciate you trying to make me feel better about my cataclysmic love life.” She hadn’t realized just how close she was to him until her lips brushed against his ear. Zoey felt Max shiver slightly at the contact, instinctively flexing his fingers on her back before she stepped out of the embrace.

He glanced down at her. “Hey, it’s what I’m here for.” 

“I’m also happy this dress didn’t go to waste,” Zoey smoothed her hands over the fabric of the red floral dress she had bought for what was supposed to be a romantic evening with her boyfriend. She had splurged on the dress, something she hardly ever did, and she was pleased with how the whole look had come together, even if Max wasn’t the intended recipient of her efforts. 

Max swept an admiring gaze over her for the second time that night (he had already complimented her earlier that evening _because of course_ ). Zoey ignored the flutters in her stomach as a soft smile graced his features, a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher. “It really does suit you well.”

**Green**

“Why did we come here again?” Zoey asked Max as they weaved their way through the bar, searching for their coworkers. “We don’t even _like_ these people. Like, _at all_.”

Max gave her a commiserating look. “Honestly, I thought _you_ wanted to go which is why I agreed when Tobin invited us. I _definitely_ don’t want to be here.” He looked around the crowded bar, where shamrocks and leprechauns were haphazardly strewn, intertwined with green streamers like a party store had thrown up all over the place. He’d much rather be back at Zoey’s apartment having their regular movie night. 

The look of incredulity on Zoey’s face was almost comical. “Why would you think I wanted to take part in... _any of this?_ ” She gestured wildly at, well, everything.

“You’ve been saying that you want to get out more, after your breakup with Jas—” Max abruptly stopped talking at the look on Zoey’s face, then, choosing his words carefully, continued, “...with _He Who Must Not Be Named_.”

“Yeah, well what I _actually_ meant was that I wanted to get out more with _you_. Not these...” she trailed off, trying to think of the right word when an arm was sloppily slung around her shoulders and the stench of beer overpowered her senses.

“Hey, you two actually showed up! I cannot thank you enough,” Tobin proclaimed before he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Leif, you owe me fifty bucks!”

Zoey was about to make a comment when Leif appeared, practically shoving two pints of green beer into Max and Zoey’s hands before pulling out his wallet and paying up. He swayed on his feet, apparently already a few beers deep, and Tobin reached out to steady him.

Zoey shared a look with Max before shrugging her shoulders and taking a hearty swig of beer. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

“Time for some shamrock shots!” Tobin suddenly announced and Zoey thought _that_ sounded like a terrible idea, but he was already pushing the pair of them toward the bar as Leif signaled the bartender.

* * *

A couple hours later and many, _many_ green beers later, Zoey and Max were stumbling and giggling their way up the stairs of her apartment building.

Well, more like Zoey was stumbling and giggling while Max was doing his part to keep her upright. He was pleasantly buzzed while she was pretty well _smashed_.

“Okay, you’re home safe and sound. Do you need any help getting inside?” Max asked, watching as she shook her head, a few more giggles escaping her lips, something she only did when she was drunk (which _did not_ happen often).

It was nice, in a way, to see Zoey let loose for a change. She worked harder than anyone else on their team (yes, even harder than _Leif_...although, when it came to kissing Joan’s ass, Leif reigned supreme).

But even though Max was happy she had fun tonight, he knew she would feel like _absolute shit_ in the morning so he made a mental note to pick up a nonfat latte and her favorite blueberry muffin on the way into work tomorrow.

And plenty of Tylenol.

He was just about to bid her a goodnight when she surged forward. His arms instinctively shot out to grab her waist to keep her from toppling to the ground.

“Mmph, love ya, Max.” She drunkenly mumbled as she clumsily looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. In her inebriated state, she _may have_ missed her target as her lips landed on the corner of his mouth instead. And if she lingered there, well the alcohol was to blame for that, too.

If either remembered their near kiss (which Max _definitely_ did, because he hadn’t drank _that_ much), neither mentioned it the next day.

**Yellow**

*knock knock knock*

Zoey opened her apartment door to see Max standing on the other side, a bottle of Pinot Grigio in his hand. “Ready to continue on with our annual Harry Potter rewatch?” He asked as he navigated around her and into the kitchen so he could pour them both a glass of wine.

“Of course. And hey, you’re even wearing the scarf I got you for your birthday.” She pointed at the yellow and black scarf draped around his neck, representative of his House colors. “Look at you getting into the whole theme of the night,” she said as she gently nudged her elbow into his side before dumping the freshly made popcorn into a bowl.

“Zoey, you know I’m a proud Hufflepuff. Honestly, I’ll never understand what’s so wrong about being kind, loyal, and patient.”

“I could definitely benefit from some of your patience,” she muttered, thinking about Leif and how he had been _even more_ insufferable than usual today because he was the one who found the bug in the code and wouldn’t stop going on ( _and on and on and on_ ) about it for hours afterward. He was _such_ a Slytherin.

“Good things are worth the wait,” he winked at her before grabbing the wine glasses and heading into the living room, taking his usual spot on her tiny couch as she handed him the bowl of popcorn and got the movie ready — they were on _The Prisoner of Azkaban_.

Zoey yawned, flopping down next to Max as Hedwig’s Theme filtered out through the speakers, signaling the start of the movie.

Max gave her a look of concern, noticing the dark splotches under her eyes, a clear indication of how exhausted she was. “Hey Zo, we can watch this next week if you’d rather get some rest tonight. I know Joan’s been working us like crazy the past few days because of the bug.”

But Zoey was adamantly shaking her head ‘no’, as if what he just suggested was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. “And miss out on movie night and unquestionably _the best_ installment of the series? I don’t think so. I’ll power through.” She shifted into a more comfortable position and focused her attention on the screen, determined to finish the movie, all 142 minutes of it.

Zoey was asleep before the Dementor was attempting to suck the soul out of Harry on the Hogwarts Express. She was now slumped over against Max, her head resting on his shoulder.

She looked so peaceful that Max didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he spent the next two hours half paying attention to the movie, half listening to the steady sound of Zoey breathing. Her intermittent snoring brought a smile to his face, filing it away in his mind as something he could tease her about later.

When the end credits started rolling, Max gently prodded her awake, but not before pressing a kiss into her hair. Zoey let out a soft sigh and Max froze, wondering how he was going to explain his actions to Zoey when he wasn’t quite sure himself what compelled him to kiss her like that.

Honestly, it just felt like a _natural_ thing for him to do.

Several seconds passed and when Zoey didn’t stir or say a word, Max braved a peek at her face and saw she was still fast asleep.

**White**

“Oh my god, Max, I’ve ruined everything!” Zoey was pacing around the small room, on the verge of hyperventilating. Max hesitated, waiting to see what she would do next and racking his brain on how best to calm down an extremely anxious Zoey Clarke.

“Emily’s perfectly fitted, perfectly white wedding dress that she spent _months_ searching for is ruined and it’s all my fault. I’m literally _the worst_ sister-in-law ever and she probably regrets asking me to be involved in the wedding at all.”

Zoey was spiraling into full on panic mode now.

“It’s not like she even asked me to do anything difficult. All I had to do was fan the dress!” She threw her hands up in the air, her voice raising a few octaves as she continued to pace.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Max said gently, cupping his hands over her shoulders, effectively arresting her movements even though he could still feel her body trembling under his palms. “Look at me. Focus on me.” Zoey met his gaze and waited for his next instructions. “Now, breathe, Zoey.”

“In,” he directed, taking a deep breath with her and maintaining eye contact.

“And out,” they both exhaled the air from their lungs, Zoey intently focusing on the warmth in Max’s eyes.

The two repeated the process, breathing together, until Max could tell Zoey had relaxed, her hands no longer shaking.

He bent his head to press a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into a tight embrace. Zoey melted against him. “I’ve got you, Zo. Don’t worry,” he murmured into her hair, his hands soothingly stroking her back. “No one is going to hate you for this. It’s just a dress, Zoey. The whole promising to love each other until death do they part is what really matters today.”

His words of reassurance were proving to be effective as she was now able to think clearly and put the whole situation into perspective.

“I know you’re right,” she mumbled, her words muffled as her face was buried in his shoulder. She tilted her head back to peer up at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course. Now, are you ready to head to the reception? I believe you owe me a dance.” He grinned down at her and Zoey rolled her eyes.

“You know I’m only comfortable dancing in my bedroom closet.” At the sad puppy dog look on his face, she acquiesced. “ _But_...I suppose I could manage _one_ dance.” She sternly held up one finger to really drive home the point that a single dance was all he’d get out of her.

And if they ended up dancing together a significant amount more than just once, well that was neither here nor there.

**Orange**

It was early afternoon the Sunday before Halloween and Max had just arrived at Zoey’s apartment, two pumpkins in his arms as he awkwardly shuffled around her and set them down on the table before turning to face her. “Okay, I upheld my part of the deal. What about you?”

Zoey laughed and gestured to the counter where the orange juice and champagne was already ready and waiting. Max went to work on making the mimosas while Zoey set up their pumpkin carving station.

“So, I thought there were going to be three pumpkins this year, what happened to Amanda?” Zoey asked, referencing Max’s most recent girlfriend. She watched as his face contorted into a grimace.

“Yeah, that’s over. Turns out, she’s actually _super_ rude. You won’t believe what she said to the waiter when we were out for dinner on Friday night. I ended it right then and there.”

Something that felt suspiciously like relief washed over Zoey as she studied Max’s expression. He certainly didn’t _seem_ upset about the breakup, she thought as she dug her hands inside her pumpkin, scooping out the goopy, stringy pulp and plopping it down on the newspaper spread out in front of them. 

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she offered, because it felt like the right thing to say, even though she wasn’t sorry at all.

“Zoey, honestly, I’m fine. And now I have more time to hang out with my best friend,” he grinned widely at her before directing his attention back on carving his pumpkin. Zoey peered over at it, even though she already knew what she would see.

 _Another year. Another cat_.

Max was so predictable.

Once Zoey finally got the inside of her pumpkin all cleaned out, she grabbed a paring knife and went to work, a look of deep concentration on her face. She wasn’t the _most_ artistic, but this was the year that was all going to change. Or, at the very least, she wanted to carve something that people would actually be able to recognize.

“Shit!” She exclaimed not even a minute later, looking down at where blood was oozing out of her index finger.

“Are you okay?” Max asked, concern etched all over his face as he immediately stopped what he was doing to reach for her, trying to offer help in any way she might need it.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off, heading in the direction of the bathroom to grab a bandaid. “It’s just a small cut, I’ll be right back.”

Zoey returned a short while later, her finger now bandaged up as she sat back down, this time reaching for the mimosa instead of the knife and quickly draining the rest of the drink.

“Does it hurt?” Max asked when she set the empty glass down on the table.

“Not bad, it’s just throbbing a little. If my dad was here, he’d kiss it and it would instantly feel better. That’s one thing I miss about living at home, especially since I’m basically a walking disaster.” It was meant as a joke, but Zoey couldn’t refute the fact that she did seem to injure herself _a lot_.

“Allow me,” Max said as his hand gently encircled her wrist, bringing her injured finger up to his lips and placing a soft kiss against it. He pulled his mouth away but made no move to drop her hand as he smiled warmly at her. “I know that probably wasn’t as good as the real thing, but does it feel at least a _teeny_ bit better? I would hate for your dad to think that I’m not looking out for his daughter.”

Apparently, her heart had jumped into her throat, rendering her unable to speak. She gave a slight nod and swallowed thickly before finally finding her voice. “Much better,” she squeaked out before clearing her throat and adding in a more normal tone, “thank you.” 

Truth be told, the pain in her finger had vanished the second Max grabbed her wrist, all sensation immediately redirected to the spot where his skin was touching hers.

 _Huh, that’s an interesting development_.

Zoey found herself _enjoying_ that Max was holding her hand, more or less, _technically speaking_.

No sooner than that realization dawned on her did she forcefully cram that thought _all the way_ into the recesses of her mind as Max finally released his grip on her and went back to carving his pumpkin, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

**Blue**

It was Christmas Eve.

Zoey and Max were at her parents’ house, having just finished their Chrismukkah feast, complete with ham, brisket, latkes, and a large assortment of every side dish imaginable. It was a seamless merging of the two holidays, which had become the new Clarke family tradition ever since the first year Max had spent the holidays with them.

They were now gathered in the family room, exchanging gifts while Christmas music played quietly in the background.

Zoey smiled as Max handed over his gift for her. She carefully pulled off the card that was taped to the box and opened it to read what was inside.

_Zoey,_

__

_You work at a tech company and frankly, your headphones are an embarrassment. I thought you could use an upgrade_.

__

_Love, Max_

Zoey made a conscious effort to ignore how the word ‘love’ made her heart swell inside her chest. Of course Max loved her, they were friends — _best friends_. He loved her like a friend loved another friend when they were friends with each other.

She set the card aside and opened the box to reveal a pair of blue headphones. An _expensive_ pair of blue headphones, Zoey immediately noted before she snapped her head up and shot a stunned look over at Max, her mouth agape.

“Max, you know I can’t accept this.”

He waved her off, completely unfazed and undeterred. “Zoey, under absolutely no circumstance will I let you continue to wear your headphones that have to be from the early 2000s. And no, they’re not _vintage_ like you seem to think they are. They are literally just cheap plastic and foam and it’s a mystery how they even still function at all.”

Zoey muttered under her breath that her current headphones _‘were just fine, thank you very much’_ , but in the end, she relented and gave Max a gracious smile for his _way too extravagant_ gift.

* * *

When Max was about to head home for the night, Zoey and Mitch followed him to the front door to see him out.

“Mitch, thanks again for letting me crash another holiday with you guys. It really means a lot to me.”

Mitch pulled him into a hug. “You’re practically a part of our family now, Max. You know you’re welcome here anytime.” He patted Max on the back before releasing him, where he was then wrapped up in another hug, this time by Zoey.

They broke apart, Max reaching for the doorknob when Mitch’s voice halted his movements.

“Max, Zoey, I think you’re forgetting something.” When they both looked puzzled, he glanced up at the spot above their heads. They followed his gaze to where mistletoe was hanging over them. “It’s tradition!” Mitch said happily, clapping his hands together as he turned and headed into the kitchen to help Maggie clean up.

“Hey, you don’t actually have—” Zoey began, but was interrupted by Max leaning down and capturing her lips in a quick kiss.

It was a peck, barely even a kiss, so it didn’t _make sense_ when Zoey’s body flooded with warmth at the simple, innocent contact.

It also didn’t _make sense_ when Zoey was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to grab his face and pull him back down for a proper kiss. And why did her eyes keep drifting down to his lips?

Max, who was unaware of her current internal debate, stepped away from her and opened the door. “Goodnight, Zo. Merry Christmas.”

That seemed to break her out of whatever spell she had just found herself trapped in, smiling up at him as she echoed his sentiment before closing the door on his retreating form.

With the door now shut, she turned and leaned against it, her head falling back and hitting it with a thud. 

_Why had she been thinking about kissing Max?? Her_ best friend _Max. Like...what...the actual...fuck?!_

She shook her head before pushing off from the door and rejoining her family.

In the end, Zoey chalked it up to too much spiked eggnog and the spirit of Christmas. There was no way she had _actual feelings_ for Max.

Because that would just be _crazy_. 

And Zoey was not _crazy_.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe Zoey _is_ crazy, possssiiiiblyyyy.
> 
> Comments feed my soul (seriously, I love them).


End file.
